Northern Gaza today bears the marks of total devastation. Streets are erased, homes reduced to rubble, schools silent, and hospitals unable to treat new patients. Residents walking through the remains search desperately for traces of their past, their eyes reflecting not relief at return, but the heavy burden of loss. Every corner carries echoes of lives interrupted before farewells could be made.

Ahlam Abdullah describes life in the north as “below zero.” Roads linking neighbourhoods have been obliterated, forcing residents to navigate blocked streets and piles of debris. Water is scarce, desalination plants destroyed, and bakeries largely wiped out, leaving people to walk long distances for basic necessities. Telecommunications are severed, inflation has soared, and medical services are barely functional, forcing many to remain in the south where some services remain available.

Hind Shubeir recounts the heartbreak of returning to a collapsed home where her sister lies under the rubble. Landmarks she once knew are gone, and partially standing buildings are unsafe. Many returning families search only for traces of their belongings or memories, unable to live in the north. Ahmed Al-Masri adds that the shared grief permeates every street; the city of their birth is now alien, yet despite the destruction, residents persist. “No house remains intact, no clear hope remains, but people are still standing… and that in itself is a kind of life,” he reflects.